Looking Through His Eyes
by CDidgery
Summary: Seduction, games, triangles. Cedric starts falling for his close friend's girlfriend. How long can he keep it to himself?
1. Chapter One

Looking Through His eyes:  
  
I saw her sitting there. All alone. Her nose stuck between the pages of a borrowed quidditch book. And such a lovely nose it was too. Well shaped; peppered with small brown freckles against her caramel skin. It was a very kissable nose. And for me to think that, was dangerous. She already had someone. Someone she was very happy with, if the rumours where true.  
  
But a boy can dream, can't he?  
  
Setting down my vibrant, parrot-feather quill, I sighed heavily. Dreams wouldn't get me anywhere in life, especially not down to the quidditch pitch where I had to be. How was a team to practice without their captain being there? However, it wasn't like I wanted to be there in the first place. I'd rather be here, kissing the heck out of her; easing her down atop any one of these random tables and showing her what passion REALLY felt like-  
  
Ah shit, there I go again.  
  
She was like a drug to me. No matter what I did, I couldn't get enough of her. She was sexy, smart, funny, did I mention sexy? You didn't know the meaning of sexy, 'til you've checked out Leah Evans. We're talking a two- five-three here. Perfect ten. And there I go again forgetting my gentlemenly skills. Damn the gentle sex. Damn them to hell. Damn them to hell, naked, handcuffed to a bed-  
  
I really need to get out of this library.  
  
And that's exactly what I did.  
  
Packing up my evening's homework, I worked quickly and silently. The last thing I wanted was to draw her attention to me. One look at those chocolate brown eyes, and I'd be a puddle on the floor. With her of course. And God knows my team would kill me if I didn't show up to practice. Quidditch was a very demanding thing. I knew that from day one of being on the team. Now, almost six years later, I'm leading the team. Leading them right into failure.  
  
Yeah, I know. I'm not a positive thinker. Than again, who is?  
  
The hallways were empty and dark when I finally left the room. Left behind my angel, my sweet, sexy angel. Dinner had come and gone, and as usual, I missed it. My doctor was going to have a field day with my diabetis by the time I got in to see him again.  
  
Cranky, bald old man. What the hell does he know anyways?  
  
Apparently more than me.  
  
Filch was wandering the hallways around me. I could hear his raspy, old man breathing. Would he hurry up and die already? I mean honestly. It takes him twenty minutes just to get out of chair and back on his feet. How the heck is he supposed to maintain a giant castle like this?  
  
I shrugged.  
  
Why the hell was I thinking about that in the first place?  
  
Because I could.  
  
Stepping up before the protrait of dancing flowers, I muttered the Hufflepuff password under my breath. Not that there was anyone around to hear it, it's just force of habit. Much like the concept of small children picking their noses, is a force of habit. Actually, that's more a fact of life than anything. And come to think of it, that's just disgusting.  
  
Great way to turn myself off there.  
  
I would have to remember that for later use. That, or thinking about wrinkly, old grandparents, going at it like mad-  
  
I suddenly had to hurl. Thankfully, the image was easy to dismiss.  
  
Wish life was the same.  
  
The common room was empty, spotless, and silent. It bugged me. I couldn't tell you why though if you asked me. Guess it's all part of the Didgery mentallity.  
  
Shit did that ever sound like an unpleasent desease.  
  
Taking to the stairs, I tackled them two steps at a time. Time had run out for me. My white-gold watch had just beeped top of the hour at me. I should have been on the pitch a good twenty minutes ago. Micheal's not going to be happy with me.  
  
"Hell," I cursed loudly, winging open the door into my shared dorm, "you owe me anyways Mike."  
  
There was nothing but the silence of the room around me to answer.  
  
Dropping my books and other school related things on the top of my desk in a scattered mess, I quickly scanned the room. My practice robes were layed out on my bed neatly, with my firebolt beside them. Mike wasn't my roomate. He was my nanny.  
  
Ignoring the details of his washing and ironing job, I quickly changed into them, then picked up my broom. The pitch was waiting.  
  
But so was my angel...  
  
If you've ever read 'Foreign Affair', then you already know about Michael Spinnet, and Cedric Didgery. If you haven't read it, than perhaps you should. It'll give you a better understanding of those two characters, plus any other original chars I happen to throw in this one. I'll try to keep the two story consistant, but they are two different stories. Oh, and before I forget, the character Leah Evans is not mine. She belongs to a very dear friend of mine, whom I'm borrowing her from. Thanks darlin'. .  
  
Disclaimer: Any original names directly from the books or movies, I don't own. They are property of J.K. Rowling, and W.B. 


	2. Chapter Two

Looking Through His Eyes:

Michael Spinnet stood in the middle of the pitch, his shaggy black hair all messed up from the breeze. He had his hands on his hips. A sure sign that I was going to be hearing from him; quickly and loudly.

_And damn was I ever right...._

"CEDRIC NICHOLAS CALVIN DIDGERY, WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!?!?!"

The whole pitch, consisting solely of the Hufflepuff team stopped what they were doing, and turned their attention to Mike and I. Way to make me feel like a goldfish in a fishbowl. Wait... not flashy enough. Let's settle with an angelfish.

_Great, there's that word again..._

Squaring my well-set dancer's shoulders, I matched Mike's eyes with my own, my chin raised slightly higher than it should have been. I didn't want to come across as a snob, but I really couldn't help it. He'd not only yelled at me, but used my full name. I hate my full name, with a passion.

"Fantisizing in the library." I asnwered calmly and cooly, not even blinking an eye at my own words.

From where I stood, a few feet away from him, I could see his bottom jaw drop. The sight made me want to laugh. It was very amusing. Nothing like comedy at someone else's expense.

"Fantisizing?" He almost choked the word out. "Who this time?"

A snicker ran through the team.

_So I was a bit of a playboy, what did it matter?_

"Who do you think it was this time?" I asnswered in my usual calm, cool voice. "The same girl it's been since last year. The same girl it's been since she came to Hoggy from America."

I watched him nod.

"Ah. That girl."

_Of course that girl you nutbar...what other girl would it be?_

"Enjoyable?"

His question caught me off guard, and for a few moments I could do nothing but stand there with my mouth gapping open like a fish out of water. Michael, my best friend might as well be my brother, asking me if my personal fantasy was enjoyable. I couldn't help it. I shook my head in frazzlement.

"As always."

He grinned. "Good. Mind on quidditch now? We've got a game in less then two weeks, and I'm not allowing Oliver to kick our asses," he paused to roll his eyes at me, "again."

From the corner of my eye I saw my lead chasser ball her hands into little fists. It was a comforting sight.

"Two weeks?" I echoed, a little on the meek side. "That's it?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah. Think you can handle this Capt'n?"

A sexy smirk pulled at the corners of my mouth as I slipped the heavy black leather jacket off my shoulders. "Do dogs pee on brick walls?"

Leah Evans set down the book she was holding with a long, drawn-out sigh. She was restless again tonight. Third night in a row. It had to be an omen of some sort. Supressing a yawn, she scanned the library around her. The room seemed much more quite then it had just a few minutes ago.

She took that as a sign to be on her way.

Working at a relaxed pace, she began packing up the books she'd been reading, all the latest tricks and treats about quidditch. Her favorite past-time. There was nothing more enjoyable than flying over the world on a broom of complete control. Heck, if it wasn't for quidditch she never would have met him.

On second thought, that wasn't always such a good thing.

Footsteps behind her distracted her from packing as she strained her ears to listen. It did not take her long to reconize them, and the smile on her face showed they were welcome. Running her fingers through her shoulder length brown hair, she turned to look at her boyfriend with a soft grin.

"Good evening Oliver."

The Gryffindor quidditch captain returned the smile, giving her a slight incline of his head. "Good evening. You're up a little late, don't you think Leah?"

"Late?" She tipped her head to one side slightly. "Not late. Just over my usual time a little. Got caught up in my reading." She motioned to the stack of books behind her.

He nodded in understanding, stepping slightly closer to her. "Getting ready for the big game I see. First one this year."

"Yes," she softly answered, "a keeper always needs to be prepared. Especially with the team we're against. Hufflepuff, you know."

Oliver gave her a mock laugh. "Piece of cake." He stopped, and shook his head. "They're dumb and slow. If it wasn't for the fact that the whole team's easy on the eyes for everyone, I don't think they'd even be a team. None of them have any skill -"

"Stop it." Interupted Leah sternly. "It's not nice to talk about them like that. They have skill, they just choose not to show it. I've seen them play before, they're actually quite good."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Right, and I'm a wind-up monkey. Honestly Leah, listen to yourself. You talk as if you actually like them."

"So what if I do?" She challenged, her chocolate brown eyes narrowing. "Regardless of what house they're in, I know a good quidditch team when I see one."

Oliver rolled his eyes, "And you're saying Hufflepuff's are a good quidditch team?" He scoffed heavily. "Damn Leah, I thought you had a better knowledge of skill than that. Looks to me like I'm going to have to show you real talent."

"Real talent?" She whispered, her eyes narrowed, head tipped to one side in minor anger. "And I'm assuming you'd know all about real talent Mr. I want to get on with the Chudly Cannons, but don't understand there's no I in teamwork?"

Her words hung heavy in the air around them, pulling the tension tighter and tighter with every breath they each took. He had no words back to her, his mind was spinning away on him. How dare she throw that back on him? What gave her the right to dig deep into his life and drag that through the mud surrounding him? Unable to come back withanything, he balled his fingers into fists, and held his pose steady, his eyes matching hers in a firery passion.

"Something I said Oliver?" Questioned Leah, her voice in a husky whisper.

"No." He answered from between clenched teeth. "What makes you think it was something you said...?"

Leah could not help herself. She rolled her narrowed chocolate brown eyes at him. And that's what pushed him over the edge. Un-clenching his fists, his right palm made clear contact with her smooth tanned cheek in straight anger.

She went to cry out, but bit down on her tounge instead, holding back the sound. She was a strong girl, crying was a signal of weakness. Unable to look him in the eye, shoked from his action, she dropped her gaze down to the stone floor under her, feeling the tears start to swell behind long, curling lashes.

Oliver stood there a moment longer, his chest heaving up and down with short panting breaths, before turning on his heels and fleeing quickly from the room before someone walked in on them. Something like that could ruin his polished rep.

**Please feel free to R&R, all input's welcome, no matter what it is. Also, if you haven't read "Foreign Affair", I suggest you take the time to do so. It'll help explain much about Cedric and Mike. Leah, as I said earlier, is not my character, therefore I can not take any credit for her. Thanks hun for letting me use her in my story, it makes writing it all that much more enjoyable. .**


End file.
